


Soup and Other Things to Share at the End of All Things

by Unreal_Kitty



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Awkward Romance, Canon Compliant, Extended Scene, F/M, Ficlet, Flirting, Fluff and Angst, Mid-Canon, Multi, Romance, Soup, Theonsa - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-04
Updated: 2020-03-04
Packaged: 2021-02-23 07:28:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23007910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unreal_Kitty/pseuds/Unreal_Kitty
Summary: On the eve of the Battle of Winterfell, Arya and Gendry share a bed, Sam and Gilly  share a future...and Sansa and Theon share a bowl of soup.Filling the “soup” prompt for the March 2020 Theonsa challenge.
Relationships: Arya Stark/Gendry Waters, Gilly/Samwell Tarly, Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth, Theon Greyjoy/Sansa Stark
Kudos: 52
Collections: Theonsa Challenge 2020





	Soup and Other Things to Share at the End of All Things

**Author's Note:**

> Milking those five seconds of Theonsa staring longingly at each other over bowls of soup for all they're worth.

The best thing to do on the eve of a battle, they say, is live. 

Beside a warm fire, Tormund drank, Brienne received the knighting she had earned so long ago, and Jaime silently marveled at her smile. 

In a warm bed, Sam and Gilly held each other, their son in between them. _There is a story here,_ Sam thought, _if we only live to write it together._ In another bed, Arya looked away from her new lover and wondered how a girl could serve the God of Death when life was so much sweeter. 

And in the courtyard, Theon and Sansa shared a bowl of soup. 

“This is pretty good, this soup,” blathered Theon. 

“Yes.”

“Not too watery. I hate when it’s too watery.”

“Me too,” replied Sansa, staring into her bowl as though it could reveal the secrets of the universe. As though she could divine the outcome of the looming battle in its reflection. 

Theon’s bowl was apparently less captivating. His eyes hadn’t left Sansa’s face the entire evening, as though soaking in enough of her to last him till the end of his days. As though he hadn’t already memorized every detail. 

His soup discourse having run dry, the silence stretched between them. 

Then, “Sansa, I —”

“I wonder what Arya’s up to,” interrupted Sansa. 

“Arya?

“I haven’t seen her since sundown.”

“I’m sure she’s focusing on the...on tonight,” said Theon. 

Sansa nodded. “Ah, of course.” She paused. “What exactly do you do? Before a battle.”

“Oh, you know, eat, brood, er...other things.” A cad he might once have been, but Theon was a prince as well, and believed there were some things you didn’t discuss over dinner with a Lady. 

Sansa however, seemed to have abandoned that particular social convention this evening. She smiled knowingly. “Other things…good for her!”

Theon frowned, confused. Perhaps it was a matter of misunderstanding rather than rebellion. “Er, Sansa, when I said ‘other things’ i meant —”

“I know what you meant.”

His eyes narrowed. “You don’t think…”

“Didn’t you see her with Gendry earlier?”

“Gendry?” It was remarkable how clueless Theon sounded, given his past exploits with women. 

“He’s not who I would choose, but he’s certainly handsome, in a solid, rough sort of way.” 

Theon’s brain finally managed to catch up with this line of conversation. “No! No, he can’t! She couldn’t! She’s just a baby!”

“She’s a woman grown.”

Theon ignored this, despite knowing its truth. He started to rise. “Excuse me, my lady, I need a word with this...Gendry person.”

“Theon, sit down.” The good-natured irritation in her voice reminded them both eerily of her lady mother. 

“Sit down? She’s a little girl!”

Sansa’s small grin was at once proud and sorrowful. “Not anymore. Arya grew up. We all did.”

Silence followed. The ghost of childhood stood between them, lost to the swing of a greatsword and the burning of a letter. Baths in blood and saltwater. 

Finally, Sansa banished the ghost with a sigh. “Look, Arya doesn’t need your protection.”

“I know that! But —”

“But what? Where is this coming from, all of a sudden? You’re not her big brother, Theon!” 

The temperature dropped by several degrees. Sansa softened her voice. “I didn’t mean it like that —”

“I know I’m not Robb,” Theon rushed. “He’s gone. He’s gone, and I wasn’t there to look out for him. But I think...I _know_ he’d want someone to look out for his little sister.” 

Sansa nodded slowly, an odd, distant look on her face. “Oh.” 

Theon wasn’t expecting that reaction. She sounded almost disappointed. 

““That’s why….I see,” Sansa continued. “That’s why you came back. Of course. It’s just, I had thought you…” She shook her head. “It was so silly, but I thought you might…”

Theon suddenly understood. “I did!” he cried, taking her hand. “I do! Sansa, I’m not here for Robb.” He laughed quietly. “He was my brother, true, but you are _not_ a sister to me.”

“I’m not certain how to respond to that.”

“I’m trying to tell you that I’m in love with you! You’re brave and brilliant, and whenever you enter a room, I can’t look away.”

“Theon—”

“Look, I know it doesn’t matter. I’m not the man for Sansa Stark, I made peace with that long ago. But tonight we might….” He cut himself off before voicing the thought on everyone’s mind and no one’s tongue. “I might not ever have this chance again. So I better tell you now. I love you.”

Sansa kissed him. She had been kissed before, and had bestowed them, reluctantly. But this? This was a kiss worthy of Jonquil, the kiss that was promised in all the stories, one that stopped time and ensnared the senses. 

It was a gift and a sacrament and a vow. A claim and a revelation. 

Sansa had never kissed like this before. And certainly, no one had ever returned such a kiss in kind.

Eventually, she felt Theon’s lips gently pull away. His face remained inches from hers. 

“I think I’m finished with my soup,” he whispered. 

Sansa kissed him again, quickly. “Shall you go brood then?”

“Jon can brood for us.”

Sansa laughed. “Jon broods enough for the entire army.”

“So...other things?”

“Other things.”

Sansa took Theon’s hand and led him towards the keep. Their soup bowls remained on the wooden table, abandoned. 

#####

**Author's Note:**

> Huge thank you to my dear friend Harry Dresden for her invaluable brainstorming, idea-bouncing, editing, and overall willingness to listen to me blather on about my OTP (which is NOT hers) for hours.


End file.
